Paradise Fought: Abel

by L. B. Dunbar

  Her head shot in my direction.

  “Abel Callahan?” she asked. “Are you related to Cain Callahan, by chance?”

  “Who wants to know?” I deflected, to which Creed hissed my name in warning and the girl’s bright smile fell.

  “I want to know,” she replied, defiantly.

  “Why?”

  “Abel, dude,” Creed warned again. To my surprise, he wasn’t offering the answer either, though.

  “Do you know him?” There were many women who did, some more disgruntled at knowing him than others. I didn’t need some girl going all ape-shit on me because my brother was a fuck-‘em-and-leave-‘em lover. Lover was even too nice of a word for Cain and his exploits. It reminded me suddenly that I hadn’t searched for that girl he requested I find on campus. I couldn’t remember the girl’s name off the top of my head, or I would have asked outright if this Lindee was the one Cain wanted.

  “I know of him,” she replied. “If that counts.”

  “Counts for what?”

  “Never mind,” she sighed and took a sip of her drink. An awkward silence fell between us.

  “So….” Creed attempted. “You were at the fight tonight, right?”

  “Yes,” she said quietly. Her voice was suddenly sad, and I looked at my friend who was watching her. His eyebrows pinched as her eyes averted his.

  “You didn’t like the fight?” Creed questioned.

  “It was fine.” She shrugged in disinterest.

  “Have a favorite fighter? Besides Cain Callahan.”

  “Cain Callahan is not my favorite fighter,” she snapped. It was evident that she could be one of the bitter castaways of Cain’s. I decided I would definitely not be mentioning my relation to him. I didn’t need the negative connection.

  “Well…” Creed tried again. “Did you have a favorite tonight?”

  “The fights aren’t really for me, but that Betta guy seemed like one to watch.”

  “Interesting,” Creed stated, purposely avoiding eye contact with me.

  “What about that Thor guy?” I added. I was convinced I’d seen Elma outside the apartment entrance with him. She refused to answer me when I called her name. My blood was slowly starting to cool in all things Elma related. I’d made a mistake in my judgment of her. I cursed myself as I’d obviously built a fantasy of who she was, or what I wanted, and Elma wasn’t either.

  “Thor Thurston? He has good moves but he seems lazy to me. He tires easily. He’s also a bit egotistical for my taste, but I know others like him. In and out of the ring.”

  Creed had raised an eyebrow in surprise at Lindee’s assessment of Thor’s skills in the cage.

  “He definitely has his favorites, out of the ring,” I huffed sarcastically then winked. Lindee was staring at me.

  “Does he have a girlfriend?” It was a strange question to ask, but her inquiry seemed more concern than personal interest.

  “Not that I know of. He’s more of a one-time customer,” I replied. How ironic, he was just like Cain.

  “Oh.” Her tone was definitely concerned.

  “Why?” I asked, curious at the expression on her face.

  “Well. My friend is sort of interested in him, and she left with him a few minutes ago. Now, I’m a little anxious she might be over her head if he’s that kind of guy.”

  “You probably don’t have much to worry about,” Creed said, then raised his pinky in the air before letting it fall limp. Lindee giggled.

  “Gosh, I hope she doesn’t get that close.” Her smile brightened her whole face and made her almond colored eyes sparkle. My friend hadn’t taken his gaze from her.

  “Who’s your friend?” Creed asked.

  “Elma Montgomery.”

  I sprinted across the complex after Lindee told me she lived in building six of the campus apartments. I could only hope her place was where Elma disappeared with Thor. It was Elma outside the building with that asshole, I was certain, and other than taking her to his car, or dragging her to the woods behind the buildings, I assumed Elma led Thor to her friend’s apartment. To say I was disheartened was an understatement. She had a strange obsession with him, but I didn’t think he was safe. Lindee seemed convinced that the apartment was Elma’s destination. When I reached B6, I banged on the door.

  “Elma,” I called out, as the door rattled under my pounding. It wasn’t a solid thing and it shook from the hammering of my palm. I thought I heard a muffled noise from within, and I braced my shoulder against the wood. Pushing with all my might, the door sprang open. It wasn’t dead-bolted and the unlatched chain swung against the door. Thor blanketed Elma on the couch. Her clothes were askew, but thankfully intact. Her hair was a mess. The position of his lower body was between her thighs.

  “Abel,” she squeaked.

  Thor twisted only slightly to look at me over his shoulder but it was enough. I stepped close enough to pummel him in the face as my right fist lashed forward. He fell off of Elma onto the rug. She screamed, but Thor jumped up with his catlike reflexes. He lunged for me over the couch with no regard for Elma on it. I was too quick. My body did slam into a desk behind me in my haste, however, and Thor pinned me to it. I looked up in time to see Thor’s fist coming for me, but I ducked. Not fast enough, his other fist connected with my sore abs. Pushing past the pain, I shoved him away from me. He collided with the couch, jostling it enough that Elma almost fell off it. She screamed again.

  “Elma,” I called out in fear that Thor would inadvertently hurt her. His fist connected with my face in my distraction. I fell back against the wall.

  “Thor,” she sobbed. “Stop it. You’ll hurt him.”

  Similar words flooded my mind from a distant past and a weaker female voice. I shook my head to concentrate. Thor froze at Elma’s concerned cry. I remained against the wall, clenching fists and breathing heavily. I couldn’t risk a fight. My intention wasn’t to display weakness, as I wanted to kill him, but I had too much at stake.

  Looking between Elma and me, Thor grunted as he ran a hand over his short hair. His eye was swelling. His lip was split. I straightened, ready for another attack.

  “I told you I don’t fight jealous lovers,” he barked at Elma.

  “He’s not my lover,” Elma retorted weakly, holding onto the back of the couch. Her voice quivered.

  “Don’t speak to her like that,” I growled, ignoring Elma’s words.

  Thor laughed without a hint of humor.

  “Might want to tell him that,” Thor bit sarcastically at Elma then he turned to me. “Don’t you worry, I won’t be speaking to her ever again.” He pushed past me and headed to the opened door. Pausing, he turned to me with narrowed eyes. “And we’ll be seeing each other soon.” With that parting warning, he left.

  “Thor,” Elma whimpered quietly. Did she really want him?

  The front door slammed shut as best it could, and I turned on Elma.

  “Is this what you wanted? Is he what you really want?” I stared at her in disbelief. She was holding her t-shirt pressed against her chest, as if covering herself when she wasn’t naked. She stood opposite me, the couch as a division between us while she stared at the closed door.

  “Jesus, Elma. Do you even know what he could have done to you? Did you really want what he was going to do?”

  Her lip quivered. I turned away. I couldn’t face her if she cried. I took two steps toward the door and stopped. I raised my hands to the frame, taking deep breaths to calm myself. My heart raced between the need to fight and the fear to lose her. I had to calm down. I’d exposed myself too much in this scuffle with Thor. I bent to pick up my glasses and stared at them in my hand. Then another thought occurred to me.

  “If you want to fuck someone, Elma, fuck me,” I snapped, as I spun around to face her. My words hung cold in the room as tears slid down her face. My shoulders slumped and my heart dropped to my stomach. I rounded the couch in milliseconds and reached out to embrace her. Expecting her to push me away, I was surprised when
she melted into me, letting me hold her. I enveloped her tighter against my chest when she didn’t resist me.

  “Shhh,” I spoke quietly. “Don’t cry, my rúnsearc.” Without thought, I kissed the side of her head. Elma sobbed into my chest.

  “What were you thinking?” I asked, both in frustration and in concern.

  Her head rolled against my chest. Her small hands fisted my shirt. I took the liberty to shift us onto the couch, not letting go of her. I pulled her into my lap and she curled into me.

  “Tell me what you were doing,” I pleaded again. She didn’t answer me, just continued to shake her head.

  “Here,” I began. “Lie back.” Curling around Elma, I spooned her inside my arms. I pressed every part of me against her, as best I could. Her back to my chest. Her knees folded over mine. My feet touched hers after I kicked off my shoes. My face was buried in her hair.

  “It’s okay now, Elma. I got you,” I whispered, but it only seemed to make her cry harder.

  She was pressing into me. Her heart-shaped ass firmly tucked against my hard length. I ground forward and sighed heavily. My dick longed to be inside her.

  “Oh, Elma.”

  Faintly, I heard her call my name.

  My hand slipped upward and latched onto one full breast. It was riper than I imagined, firm and desperate. I kneaded it between eager fingers, squeezed hard, and groaned again when I pinched a nipple already taut with excitement under the soft cotton.

  “Elma, a rúnsearc.”

  The intensity of my name from her lips increased.

  My breath hitched. My lower body rutted forward. My hips increased in tempo. I imaged the warmth inside her. My climax was coming. I was almost there. Thoughts of burying myself in her pushed me over the edge. Sweet relief hit. Melting slowly against her back, my body went limp as I nuzzled into her hair.

  “Abel.” The tone was firm and my eyes sprang open. My hand still cupped Elma’s breast. My spent dick firmly pressed against her ass and the front of my jeans was warm with moisture. I’d had a fucking wet dream. Nothing I’d imagined happened, except it did, in my sleep. Acting out my dream while holding her, in hopes of protecting her, I’d taken advantage of her instead and embarrassed myself in the action.

  “Shit,” I whispered as I sat up abruptly. The front of me was damp. My jeans slightly darkened. Dear God, no, I thought as I brushed a hand through my hair and shot over her on the couch. Elma sat up to face me, but I kept my back to her.

  “Abel?” she questioned with concern, but also a strangled giggle. She was laughing at me.

  “I’m sorry,” I muttered. My glasses were on the floor and I groped for them. Luck was on my side in one manner, I found them almost instantly. As I heard her questioning tone again, I picked up my shoes which were off to the edge of the couch. This time there was no laughter. Without turning back to her, I walked forward holding my shoes in front of me and exited the apartment. I had no idea if Lindee had returned home and saw Elma and me together, but I’d never be able to face either of them again.

  Mortified, I chucked my shoes into the passenger seat of my truck and sped out of the apartment parking lot. My phone binged but I ignored it. My mind raced over the feel of Elma against my body: the curve of her ass and hips, the weight of her breast in my hand, the smell of her hair in my nose. I raced back to my own apartment to find the place empty. Thankful to not embarrass myself further, in front of Creed, I headed straight for the shower. I needed a cold one as my body was ready again to do what it shouldn’t have done to Elma.

  After my shower, which was torture, I decided I needed a long run. It wasn’t until I finished, panting hard as I walked the final steps to my place, that I checked my phone.

  The missed call had been Cain.

  I had barely had the preliminary “Hey” out of my mouth when Cain leapt into his purpose.

  “Did you find her?”

  “Find who?” I replied instantly, without thinking of his mission.

  “Sofie.”

  My brain rattled for a moment, searching for recognition.

  “The girl,” he growled.

  “Right,” I paused, “I haven’t found her.” I hadn’t looked either. I’d had my own troubles, but I didn’t want to share those with my brother. I owed him, in other matters. He did so much for me. He had suffered so much because of me. I had to do better by him.

  “Are you even looking?” he snapped, sensing my incompetency. It was why I’d never been trained to fight. My father, and eventually my brother, didn’t believe I had the ability. I wasn’t capable of many things in either of their eyes.

  “Yes,” I lied, attempting to make my voice more convincing. “The school has ten thousand people, though.”

  “Can’t you do anything?”

  The deafening pause proved that I had the upper hand. If he wanted to insult me, he could find the girl himself.

  “Look, just go to some student records department or something? Ask for an address? A schedule? Something?”

  “Can’t you?” I snapped. The line froze between us again.

  “What’s up with you?” Cain finally asked. “You’re never like this.”

  “Like what?” I bit again then cursed myself. I was trying to calm my tone.

  “Defensive.”

  I sighed into the phone.

  “It’s nothing.” I paused. “I’ll try harder. I’ll try today.” The weight of the words was heavy. I’d used them so many times as a child. My hardest wasn’t ever hard enough, though. Attempts made today were criticized, as they should have been done the day before. My mind recalled the child I once was. Anger rolled through me at the suppressed memory. Revived negative thoughts energized me. My run was forgotten. I was ready to race again.

  “Look,” Cain sighed. “Just do what you can. I know she’s there.” He stopped. “I think she’s there,” he added. “I hope she’s there.” His voice grew softer with each statement. It was completely uncharacteristic of him. He was always hard, but my brother had been suspended for six months from the fight. When he didn’t go to jail, he didn’t return to the circuit directly. Maybe he was growing softer in his time off.

  I went to class on Monday, only to collect that week’s assignments. It wasn’t mandatory to be present, but I didn’t want to give up the ten percent grade loss if I wasn’t there. I wore a baseball cap and waited until the last minute to slip into the back of the auditorium. Elma was rows ahead of me with a blonde girl next to her. Thor was nowhere to be seen. I wasn’t even listening to the lecture, which I assumed I could learn from reading the textbook. Elma looked back at me, but I refused to acknowledge her. I kept my head down and my hat low to hide the black eye I’d endured from Thor.

  Class was almost over when someone stood early and walked up the aisle. The dark haired guy stopped near my seat.

  “Aren’t you Betta?” he asked.

  My heart skipped a beat. Without looking up, I answered.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, letting my hand come up to shield my face and adjust my cap again to protect the black eye.

  “You’re him, right? I saw you Saturday. You’re amazing.”

  At the unexpected compliment, I looked up. It was a mistake. By now, class had ended and a few others were behind the Hispanic kid questioning me. When my inquirer saw the black eye, he gasped.

  “I knew it was you. You rocked it, man. I love to watch your moves.” He imitated me with some fake punches as the small crowd stalled around him.

  “I can’t wait to see you this Saturday. Heard you’re up against Thor next.”

  I didn’t know how he could know that before I did. I concerned myself with my opponents religiously, but something must have happened. Another rank shift had occurred, if I was against Thor next. I stood, hoping to escape my new fan. I needed to get out of the room before Elma drew near. Knowing she’d ignore me anyway, I couldn’t face her continued rejection. It was bad enough I’d embarrassed myself wit
h her. I’d made a mistake to help her, and I’d just have to pay the price with my father. Rather, I had hoped to win back the money and essentially recover the fees for Elma with no concern to my father.

  The group was growing behind my admirer. I didn’t do well with crowds, and I really didn’t know how to respond to those gathering. I had to think of something. Fast.

  “See you Saturday night,” I mumbled, approaching the end of the aisle and hoping to escape. My new dark haired follower fumbled with his backpack and continued to block my exit. He pulled out a pen and a notebook.

  “Here. Can I have your autograph? I want to say I knew you before you made it big, and you’re going to be one big fish someday,” he bragged. I had to admit his attention was infectious, but my panic was accelerating. My eyes shifted to the edge of the held up students to find Elma staring in my direction. I quickly looked away and took the man’s pen.

  “To Victor,” he said with excitement.

  I scribbled his name and mine under it.

  Fight. For Love. Betta.

  Returning the pen and notebook, Victor took it with haste. His whole face lit up as he showed the crowd around him. At this point, I was able to make my escape by slipping past him with a slap on his back in gratitude. The gathered students would hold Elma at bay for a few minutes.

  At first, I was angered by the hold up in the auditorium. I had to get to Abel. He hadn’t returned any of my texts. Lindee explained how Abel was worried about me and left the party. The rest of the story I knew myself, but what I didn’t understand was Abel’s eagerness to leave the following morning. Yes, he had taken some liberties with me, and while it was quite a shock at first, I couldn’t say I didn’t like it. However, I also didn’t believe he was aware of what he was doing. It appeared he was dreaming: dreaming of me. I could only assume, by the sound of his sleepy voice, he desired me in that dream.

  The gathered crowd was growing and I was getting anxious I would lose Abel, until I noticed that the back-up was because of him. The murmurs rippled back to me.